


I Think We're Alone Now

by LWF



Series: Family First [3]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Again, Arguing, Dysfunctional Family, Fever, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Infection, Injury, Sort Of, grace to the rescue, he's trying too, hurt five, im trying my best to redeem him, luthers dumb again, stressed five
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 05:55:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18131813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LWF/pseuds/LWF
Summary: Luther, in his own misguided way, attempts to apologize to Five.It doesn't go quite the way he'd been imagining it would.





	I Think We're Alone Now

**Author's Note:**

> @everyone who's read the series so far/left kudos/or commented, thank ya'll so much D: 
> 
> <3

He needs roughly fourteen days to heal. According to Grace, that is. 

It’s barely been six days and not being able to do a spatial jump without doubling over in pain is becoming increasingly tedious.

Five winces as he applies a cool ice pack over the bandaged area to help with the swelling. God, why does that hurt so much still? It’s not like he hasn’t been shot before, working for the Handler was its own danger, after all. He’s just always managed to cauterize the wound and ignore it until the mission was over. 

But now there is no mission to focus on, no distraction from the pain. 

He pops a couple of aspirin dry before headed to the world of the living--well, and undead, if one counted Ben.

Allison is as stuck as he is until she heals, too. She doesn’t want her daughter to see her like this, and the paparazzi would have a field day if she was caught outside. She’s at least more mobile than he is by now, though. 

Diego is still fighting crime out in the real world, but instead of going back to the boxing place in between stints he comes back to the Umbrella Academy--home. 

Five has been dancing around the idea of going with his brother on these little missions of his. He’s itching for something to do. He’s never had this much down time before. Even during the apocalypse every day had been about survival and adaptation, that meant never staying in one spot for too long, hours of foraging, hunting, exploring, learning. 

The only times he’d been able to half-way relax were--Five shakes his head. 

He hates thinking about his time in the apocalypse. Would prefer to forget he was ever so terribly alone for so goddamn long. 

Only he and Delores for over thirty years in that hellhole. 

 

Grace prepares everyone a midday snack; cubed cheese, pita bread and hummus, with a side of sliced apples. 

Diego of course, eats enough for three people. 

But Five, he rations. He eats slowly so that he’ll feel full faster and drinks enough water to trick his stomach into thinking it’s had enough to eat. Some habits are hard to break. 

Vanya’s telling everyone a funny story about a violin student of hers when Luther walks in, making his presence known. 

It’s been three days since the whole awful Delores incident. 

Luther’s made himself scarce as a mouse in the house since. 

This is the first time in those three days he’s dared step foot in an occupied space. 

Five should be pissed on sight--and he is. But the instant hot white fear is what overshadows the anger. He’s still weak, it still hurts him to jump, and Luther is so overwhelmingly strong, he doesn’t know if he can protect Delores, and the thought terrifies him. 

He not so subtly pushes her chair closer to his as Luther takes a seat at the table. 

The room goes quiet, except for the sound of their moms knife clattering against the kitchen counter as she cuts the cheese into more cubes. 

Without another moments thought Five takes Delores by the hand and spatial jumps upstairs to his bedroom. 

He hears a small calamity from the kitchen once he’s back in his room. To let the others know he hasn’t disappeared into some void again, he uses what strength he has left to slam his door shut as hard as he can. 

It quiets down a little after that. 

Five groans and drops himself onto his bed. “Fuck.” he wraps an arm around his stomach and breathes hard through the pain. He’s so used to using his powers to get from here to there and there to here he forgot Graces’ orders to take it easy until his wound is completely healed. 

Delores, who’s sitting on a pillow on his bed, gives him a look. 

He rolls his eyes at her. “You worry too much, I’m fine, really.” he sits up with another groan. “Plus, I wasn’t about to let Luther hurt you again. He’s threatened you enough these last two weeks alone for a lifetime, thank you very much.” 

A knock at his door interrupts his rambling. 

Klaus is standing there in the hall, looking a little sheepish. “Hey little buddy, just makin’ sure you didn’t time travel out of our lives again.” he laughs that nervous laugh he does sometimes when he’s trying to say something serious but prefers he not come off that way to others. 

Five purses his lips into one of his too-wide smiles. “Nope, still here. You’re all stuck with me.” 

Klaus nods. “Good, good, good.” he takes something out from behind him. It’s his plate of food, untouched mostly. “Mother dearest insists you eat the rest. And I agree, you’re too skinny, someone’s gonna’ call child services on us.” 

Five scoffs but takes the plate when it’s handed to him. If Dad were alive he’d never be able to eat on his bed like this. “You’re one to talk.” 

Klaus poses at the doorway like he’s waiting for someone to take a photo. “You’re just jealous!” he wails dramatically as he bounds away to do...god only knows what. 

Five doesn’t think he’ll ever understand what goes on in the enigma that is Klaus’ mind.

  
  


He ends up taking an impromptu nap in the middle of the day and only wakes up when the his door creaks open, alerting him to an intruder. 

Five immediately pulls out the gun under his pillow and takes off the safety. 

“Jesus Christ, is that a gun?!” 

Five lowers the weapon with a frown. “Yes. What do you want, Luther?” 

Number One doesn’t bother with a lecture and instead shuffles his feet and looks down, as if ashamed. “I um, I wanted to come in here and apologize.” 

Five sits up, wincing. “What for? Locking Vanya up in Dad’s terror dome? Tossing me around like a rag-doll when I tried to stop you? Or are you sorry for kidnapping Delores?” he tilts his head expectantly. 

Luther fidgets under the scrutinizing gaze. “The last one.” he finally says. “I just--you know Delores isn’t real right? It’s a mannequin.” 

“Great apology so far, really, just riveting.” Five forces a sharp smile. “You feel free to go on your merry way now.” 

Luther sighs in frustration. “I’m trying to make things right, Five, but--” 

“Right for who, exactly?” 

“For this family.” Luther crosses his massive arms over his chest. “Allison can’t speak, Diego’s still out there fighting crime all on his own refusing any backup, Klaus is a vagabond, Pogo’s lied to all of us our whole lives and Vanya, whether any of you want to believe it or not, is still a danger, not just to us, but to the world! How can you not see that? You of all people should be on my side!” 

“I know you only see what you want to, but Vanya has been training with mom every single day since you tried to lock her away, in order to control her powers so that what happened with Allison never happens again. You seriously don’t think she feels like absolute fucking shit every time she thinks about what she did to her? 

“She deserves a second chance. You told me, even after I confessed to being a killer, that you still somehow managed to see some good in me.” Five stands up, ignoring the ache in his side. “Why can’t you do the same for Vanya?” 

Luther shakes his head. “There’s a huge difference. You don’t cause the end of humanity. You can’t destroy everything within a mile radius of you because you’re not in a good mood that day!” 

“She didn’t--”

“Only because we somehow managed to delay the inevitable.” 

Five rolls his eyes. “There is no arguing with you. It’s like talking to a brick wall.” he leans up against the wall, reveling in the cold hitting the back of his neck. God, he’s tired. It’s so hot in this room. 

“You’re the one refusing to listen to reason. You’re leading the team astray with your arrogance--”

“I’m not leading anyone anywhere!” Five yells, forcing himself to stand up straight. “And we’re not a team, dad is gone, do you not get that yet? You don’t have to go around enforcing his twisted ideals anymore, have an original thought for once in your life!” 

“If we’re not a team then what the hell are we supposed to be?!” 

Five pauses and blinks, genuinely surprised. “God, Luther, a  _ family _ . We’re a family. Start acting like you wanna’ be a goddamn part of it, maybe?” 

“Is that what we were when you decided to abandon us sixteen years ago?” Luther retorts angrily, without thinking. 

“What?” Five actually flinches at the accusation. “I didn’t  _ abandon _ anyone, I got stuck in the future, you neanderthal! Do you even think before you speak or is there a monkey playing cymbals in your brain twenty four seven?” Five can’t believe Luther would say something like that to him; he’d never meant to leave his family and home for good, especially not to some deserted wasteland in a future where all of his siblings are dead. 

“Yeah, no, go ahead, resort to childish insults again.” Luther scoffs. “At least you’re acting your age.” 

Five grins savagely. “Fuck off.” 

“This is still my home, if anyone should leave, it’s all of you who only decided to come back the moment tragedy struck.” 

Five turns on his heel to grab Delores and jump anywhere but here in this room with the obnoxious man, but the he moves way too fast and ends up doubled over in agony. “Shit, shit  _ shit _ .” he hisses through his teeth, eyes scrunched close. 

“Five?” only silence follows. “I’ll get mom!” Luther runs off only to belatedly realize that they’re the only ones in the house, besides Allison, who’s resting. 

Grace is out grocery shopping today.  

He knows Pogo is definitely in the house, somewhere in the study most likely, but out of everyone in the family, Pogo’s the last person Luther trusts right now, so that’s not exactly an option. 

By the time he’s made it back up to Fives room, the boy is lying facedown on his bed, his breathing ragged. 

Luther sits on the edge of the bed and when he tries to turn his brother over to inspect the wound, Five knocks his hand away harshly. “ _ Don’t _ .”

“God, you are impossible, you know that?!” 

Five gasps as he rolls over to face Luther. “I don’t care. Go away.” 

Luther lets out a frustrated huff. “You look like shit, I’m pretty sure you have a fever. At least let me take your temperature.” 

“I’m fine, just go.” Five insists. His body’s been put under too much undue stress in the last few weeks and it looks as though it’s finally catching up with him. He just needs to sleep it off. 

“Sure you are.” Luther lumbers out of his sight but appears a few minutes later with the first aid kit under his arm. “Open.” 

“Wha--?” the thermometer Luther’s holding gets unceremoniously shoved into Fives’ mouth before he can finish his question. Five snaps his mouth shut around the stupid thing and seethes but doesn’t spit it back out. 

Knowing Luther’s persistent nature, they’ll end up wrestling over the thermometer and while normally he’s confident enough in himself to know he can out maneuver just about anyone, in the state he’s in right now, Five doesn’t think he can fight his way out of a paper bag.

“One hundred and two degrees, Christ Five, lay down, let me check your side.” 

Five frowns. “I’m almost sixty fucking years old, I do not need you to take care of me over a little fever.” he looks at Delores. “Hush, I’m fine.” he tells her, rolling his eyes heaven-bound. 

Luther looks at Delores too but wisely chooses not to say anything. “I just wanna’ take a quick look, Five. And yes, I am aware of how old you are--” he lies, because even though, sure, his brother does act like a crotchety old man ninety nine percent of the time, he just can’t get past that face. 

Five hides it well enough but sometimes, when he doesn’t think anyone is looking, Luther sees the fear in those eyes, the scared young boy still ever-present in the old man he claims to be. 

“If everything looks fine, I’ll get you some Tylenol and a cold compress and leave you the hell alone, deal?” he compromises. 

Five looks to the mannequin again for a moment and finally nods his consent. He lies down gingerly and lets Luther pull up his t-shirt and slowly remove the white squared gauze mom had applied. “Ah, crap, that’s not good.” Luther grimaces. 

The injury is definitely infected, swollen and red with what might be pus leaking through the stitches. “That’s gonna have to wait until mom gets back, I’m not sure what to do for that besides give you some antibiotics, and even then I don’t know what kind of dose you should be taking. I’m gonna’ get you something to cool you down while we wait.” 

The last time Five had gotten an infection had been about a year ago--in a different timeline--when he’d been working for the Handler. He’d cauterized the wound halfway through the mission and decided against medical treatment when he’d returned to headquarters, choosing instead to move on to the next mission. That had been a mistake. 

He remembers killing the designated target and limping back to his motel room, knowing something was wrong. He was too hot and the arm he’d gotten stabbed in was a rod of agony. He’d managed to open the wound up and drain all the fluid and wrap his upper arm in antibiotic ointment and gauze before promptly passing out, but it had been a close thing. 

And now. Five groans as he sits up, against his brothers wishes. “You can go, I’ve taken care of this type of thing before.” he assures him. All he needs are the right tools, which he’s sure they have in the makeshift infirmary downstairs. 

“Mom will be home any minute, and you can barely stand,” Luther argues. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?” 

Five swings his legs over the bed and stifles a gasp of pain. “I told you already, this isn’t my first rodeo. I’m a grown man, I don’t need mom--” 

Luther lets out an incredulous “ _h_ _ ah _ ” and then shakes his head. “Coulda' fooled me.” 

Five’s face goes beet red when he remembers the way that he had sobbed into Graces apron not three days prior to today. That hadn’t been one of his prouder moments, for sure. Ignoring the pain, he takes hold of Delores’ hand and uses the last of his energy to jump before Luther can stop him. 

 

Luther curses himself for baiting Five like that and runs down to the infirmary, apology ready at his tongue. “Five, I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”  _ Again _ he thinks bitterly. 

He hadn’t even felt this much disconnect to the rest of the family when he’d been two hundred thirty eight thousand and nine hundred miles away from them, up on the stupid  _ moon _ for goodness sake. 

It seems as though every time he opens his big dumb mouth the distance between he and the rest of them grows further and further and nothing he says or does has been right so far, not in a single instance. 

He’s at a loss. 

“Five?” he was sure his sibling would head here, but now, with only silence as an answer, he’s scared Five might have decided to leave again. For good. “Five!” he shouts when he sees the teen sprawled out on the floor behind the dreaded operating table. 

He’s pale as can be, clammy with sweat and breathing so harsh his chest is heaving with effort. 

Luther carefully lifts the half-conscious boy up and onto the table. 

“Hey, what’s with all the ruckus down here, mom and I just finished doing the groceries, would be nice if you kids would stop doing the hanky panky and help get them inside--whoa, what the hell happened?” Klaus stops dead in his tracks, eyes wide as he takes in the scene before him. 

Luther sighs in relief. “Oh thank god, get mom down here, now!” 

Klaus doesn’t waste any time. 

  
  


Grace has both of them step out of the room and finish unpacking the groceries from the car while she works her magic. 

She inserts an IV of antibiotics into her sons left wrist where she finds a vein and then drains the wound with a solution. She takes a cold washcloth and drapes it gently over his forehead to get the fever down. 

Five stirs at that, moaning uncomfortably. 

Grace takes his hand in hers after taking off her gloves. “Shh, shh, shh.” she quiets him down, stroking the hair from his forehead so that it’s not resting on the damp cloth. “You’ll be right as rain in a few more days.” she smiles but it’s a smile tainted with learned worry, and not her usual programmed sunny side up attitude. 

 

Five wakes up hours later, still exhausted, but in less pain than before. 

Grace is sitting at his bedside, knitting mindlessly. 

“Mom?” his voice is very raspy, throat dry. 

She puts a straw to his lips instantly. “Drink.” she says. “You must be parched!” 

He obeys, grateful. His memories are a little blurry, but he deduces correctly that he must have passed out after trying to use his powers again in his less than stellar condition. He can’t believe he let his brother goad him like that. He’s not actually thirteen anymore, to have so little impulse control. Though, he relents, despite the fact that his memories might be those of an adults life lived, the body he occupies is very much that of a child's. 

Five sighs. Maybe he’s not as grown as he likes to believe, after all. “Damn puberty.” he mutters under his breath. 

He wants to ask where Luther is, but bites his tongue. 

He worked so damn hard and came back all for his family’s sake, and now he can’t even be in the same room with one of his siblings without it ending in a screaming match. 

Pogo still won’t show his face around any of them, and honestly, no one’s been brave enough to confront their fathers oldest friend, not after all the things he’s chosen to hide from them. 

And as much as he hates to admit it, Luther’s not completely wrong about the state of their family. 

Diego’s been just a little more reckless during his own ‘missions’ lately, coming back with more and more bruises and less regard for himself. 

Five hasn’t made any effort to reconnect with any of his siblings, really, now that he’s actively thinking about it. He has absolutely zero idea what Klaus does all day, unless they’re at the kitchen table eating together. 

Vanya’s always training or in and out of her apartment--teaching violin still? He’s not sure. 

And Allison spends most of her days sleeping, though that, he supposes is normal, for someone who’s still healing. He imagines she must be missing her daughter terribly, but realizes he hasn’t bothered asking about her. 

He’s lost his family once already, and once in a lifetime is enough for that kind of loss. He needs to find a way to fix them, but sleep is more tempting at the moment. He falls into a fitful slumber, all of these thoughts occupying an enormous space in his mind. 

How the hell is he supposed to mend the family…?


End file.
